Across the Universe
by suicidalmime
Summary: Collection of drabbles/one-shots about various ways Arthur and Gwen find each other in any time and any place. From canon era to outer space?
1. Hiding

**Summary:** Collection of drabbles about various ways Arthur and Gwen find each other, in any time and any place. From canon era to outer space?

**Author's Note:** This first drabble to start everything off is set in canon era in the time before series 5.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Merlin.

**Hiding**

Arthur walked the castle halls. It's been almost a year and still no sign of Morgana. He still worried, of course, but the return of the usual hustle and bustle brought him a bit of peace.

There was a sneeze followed by a giggle.

He turned toward the direction of sounds. It came from down a rarely used corridor he was about to pass. He made his way down it slowly until he heard shushing and shuffling. Stopping in front of the alcove the noise was coming from, he cleared his throat.

A young girl, about twelve years old, stumbled out. "P-Pardon me, King Arthur. I was—"

"She was keeping me company." Gwen stepped out, stood behind the girl, and rested her hands on her shoulders. "This is Annie, and she is Cook's apprentice. Cook was a little harsh with her today." She squeezed Annie's shoulders. "She ran off, and found this alcove with me in it."

Annie bowed her head bashfully. Arthur bent forward, hands on knees, and whispered, "Want to know a secret, Annie?" Her eyes lifted then darted back to the floor. Arthur tilted her chin up and her eyes widened. "I'm afraid of Cook too," he revealed and gave her a toothy grin.

Annie gasped. "But you're the king! You're not supposed to be afraid!" She clasped her hands over her mouth. Arthur laughed and stood up. "Believe me, I'd rather face a dragon than get on Cook's bad side."

"All of Cook's sides are bad sides," Gwen muttered. Annie looked up at her, shocked by the Queen's jest. Gwen smiled at Annie. "Don't tell her I said that."

Arthur turned his attention to his wife. "And why were you here, Guinevere?"

"I was hiding from the ladies of the court," she said, holding his gaze. Arthur knew that not all the nobles approved of his marriage to a servant; he would occasionally overhear them voicing their grievances in the halls. Gwen heard them too, more often than him. She never told him that she heard, but he knew by the slump of her shoulders, or when she'd hideaway in their chambers. On those nights, as they lay in their bed, he holds her a little closer.

Arthur broke their gaze when he saw out the corner of his eye as Annie's hands flew to her nose and her eyes clench shut. "Annie, are you alri—"

A stifled sneeze interrupted him. Four more followed in rapid succession. Annie sniffed then let out a breath of relief. "Cook kicked me out of the kitchen because I kept sneezing. She said I'm useless. I have to learn how to stop by tomorrow, or she'll never let me back in!" She sniffed again and rubbed her nose.

Arthur admired her determination. "It's getting late. You should go home and keep practicing, but don't be too worried about it. I'll take care of everything."

Annie beamed. "Really? Thank you, my lord!" She bowed deeply and turned to Gwen. "My lady," hugging her quickly before scurrying off.

They watched Annie hurry down the corridor until she disappeared around the corner. Arthur offered Gwen his arm. "My lady." She happily accepted. They headed down the corridor and passed an older noble couple, Sir Henry and Lady Elizabeth. Sir Henry nodded in their direction while Lady Elizabeth pursed her lips and looked the other way, pretending not to see. Once they were farther away, Gwen sighed.

"I'm glad I found you," Arthur said as Gwen leaned against him.

"You always find me," she said softly. They could've been talking about the past or the present.

Gwen noticed they were near the kitchen. "Don't want to face Cook alone, do you?" she chuckled and nudged Arthur with her hip. He made a show of it, acting as if she bumped him too hard and stumbled a bit to the side, pulling her with him. Another noble couple coming their way eyed them with disapproval.

Arthur glared back at them, and fear flashed across their faces before being quickly replaced with expressionless masks when they walked by. Gwen watched their retreating figures then turned back to Arthur.

He leaned down, placed a lingering kiss on her temple, and whispered in her ear.

"I'm not afraid when you're by my side."

* * *

**A/N: **One down, I don't know how many more to go. I have ideas floating around liiiiiiiiiike vampires, and apocalypse, modern era things, and stuff. **I'M ALSO OPEN TO SUGGESTIONS**

I hope you enjoyed this, and** thank you** for reading!


	2. True Love and All That Jazz

**Arthur's Note: **Thanks for the reviews! (To Irene: The title's not referencing The Beatle's, it's just a coincidence) This is a drabble I wrote on tumblr that fits in this collection.

**Summary: **Arthur won't appreciate reincarnation until he finds Guinevere.

Enjoy!

**True Love and All That Jazz**

_Reincarnation was tiring_, Arthur thought as he fidgeted in his seat. The banquet wasn't dull, but it wasn't very lively either. At least his father was having a good time; he was the one being honored after all. Plus he heard a jazz band was going to perform, and Uther Pendragon loved two things: recognition and jazz.

Arthur sat back and thought about the last three months. Merlin just showed up in his office. He said saw him on the cover of a business magazine, and tracked him down in London. Then he babbled about destiny, and magic, and how the dragon didn't specify how Arthur would "rise again." Arthur was about to call security when Merlin's eyes flashed gold, and Arthur remembered everything. "What took you so long? It would've been faster if you googled me." Merlin mumbled something about waiting, a lake, Glastonbury, and then a very audible, "_Prat._"

Thus began the game of finding and deciding who gets their memory back. His father was no longer the tyrant driven by fear and hate. He was still stern, but he smiled more and Arthur wanted to keep it that way. Then there was Morgana_. _She was still his sister, and it was keeping secrets that got them in this mess, but what if she still wanted him dead? As for the knights, Leon and Gwaine weren't hard to find since Leon worked for him and they frequent a pub owned by Gwaine, and it wasn't a surprise when they found Percival in a gym. Lancelot was bound to turn up when least expected, but Elyan was proving to be the most difficult to locate. But if he found Elyan, he'd find Guinevere.

_Guinevere. _Not having her was tormenting. These past months of knowing she was somewhere out there was driving him mad. "You can become a magical sat nav, but you can't find my wife!" he had yelled at Merlin. "It doesn't work like that. Besides, you always find each other. You know, true love and all that jazz. Why would that stop now?" Merlin responded with confidence. _What should I do when I see her? What do I say? "Hey Guinevere, remember me? It's Arthur, your husband!" Maybe I should just wait and let Merlin work his mag-_

The sound trumpets shocked Arthur out of his thoughts. He heard Leon gasp next to him and looked up. There she was, center stage, shining in the spotlight. He sat up straight at the edge of his seat. He wouldn't dare to look away or even blink. He could imagine Merlin with a goofy grin on the other side of him, and barely heard an "I told you so" before everything seemed to disappear around him until only Guinevere filled his vision and her voice filled the hall, his ears, his heart.

_Reincarnation, _Arthur thought, _was beautiful._

* * *

_"There must always be a Pendragon in the office. Go, take care of it."_ That's what his father told him when he got a call from the office during the banquet and was sent off with _George_ to rectify the situation. Instead of reuniting with the love of his life, he was stuck in the office late into the night and knee-deep in files with George, who didn't need his memory back to make jokes about _brass_. Just when it was becoming unbearable, Merlin called. "I got Elyan to remember-yes, he was there too. He was playing the piano, but of course you didn't notice because you were too busy staring at Gwen." Arthur urged Merlin to continue. "She doesn't remember. I tried. _Twice! _Nothing happened," Merlin's voice faltered. "She doesn't remember..."

"Why didn't it work?" Arthur knew he shouldn't be so hard on Merlin, but frustration was setting in. "You're supposed to be the greatest sorcerer to ever live!" he whispered harshly into the phone.

Merlin huffed. "You really need to stop holding that over my head."

The sorcerer didn't give up and worked a different kind of magic. Doing his job for once as Arthur's pseudo-personal assistant, he booked the band for Uther's 60th birthday at a ritzy lounge bar two weeks later. That's how Arthur found himself sitting with Gwen in the empty lounge after the band's rehearsal. He was torn between asking her out and asking her to marry him while not so subtly asking if she believed in reincarnation. She was laughing. He recalled the last time he truly heard her laugh after she was freed from Morgana's enchantment. He missed it, making her laugh_…Wait-What did I do? Did I say something stupid? Oh, God-_

"I remember, Arthur. You can stop beating around the bush," she said as she rested a hand on his shoulder. He relaxed and all his stress melted away. "You knew?" He looked into her eyes. "You knew! How long?"

Her smile was infectious. "I remembered the same time as you, I suspect." Her hand moved to rest on his chest, over his heart. "I just felt it. I felt you." His hand covered hers and gave a comforting squeeze. She tried to see him immediately, she explained, but his busy schedule made it impossible. Then she missed him at the banquet. She was going to tell Merlin but saw him with Elyan, and when he got to her and sneakily used his magic without hesitation, she couldn't help but make him squirm a bit. "I wanted to see how many times he'd try, but Elyan pulled me away thinking it didn't work and that I still didn't know who Merlin was when I did, or know that he knew and…" She was rambling, the endearing habit she broke when she was queen. Arthur realized how much he missed it. Gwen quieted and her eyes glistened with unshed tears. Arthur knew what was coming and wanted to stop her from saying it. He was sure she could feel his heart racing.

Gwen's hand slipped out from under his, she rose from her seat and looked down at him. "You died," she stated calmly. Arthur imagined this was how she held herself after his death; composed, a model of stability for a grieving kingdom. But this time it was only him. The tears welled and her bottom lip quivered.

He stood hastily and cupped her face in his hands ready to catch her tears. "Guinevere, I'm so-"

"Don't you dare apologize, Arthur Pendragon." The tears flowed but Gwen smiled through them. Arthur was momentarily stunned by her sudden change. He was sure she'd berate him for dying. She reached up and brought his head down until their foreheads touched. "We've been given a second chance," her voice full of gratitude, her breath tickled his lips. "Now ask me to marry you…_again_."

Arthur grinned. "Can I kiss you first?"

* * *

**A/N:** Thank you for reading!


	3. Your Greatest Desire

**Summary: **Sometimes what you desire most is standing right in front of you. (featuring Jack Sparrow's compass. Oh, excuse me. _Captain_ Jack Sparrow's compass)

**Your Greatest Desire**

Commodore Arthur Pendragon and his crew ambled out of the tavern. They had returned to Port Camelot after two months of chasing the crazed pirate, Captain Melwas, who terrorized the islands for years, who murdered Arthur's mother. Melwas went down with his ship, crushed by the mast that fell on him before being swallowed by the sea. Arthur wanted to revel in the victory with his men, but the pirate's death wouldn't bring his mother back.

Arthur trailed behind his men, entertained by their antics. They were their own parade, singing and stumbling.

He heard signs of struggle coming from the alleyway. He looked at his group of merry men, watching them head off, and then ran down the alley towards the commotion. He saw an old scruffy man being beaten. Arthur pulled the assailant off the old man, throwing him into the opposite wall. The assailant's head hit the brick, breaking his nose and shattering his teeth.

Two guards on patrol saw and ran down the alley. "You, there! Stop!" They slowed when they saw Arthur's uniform. They stilled when they saw Arthur's face.

"Commodore," they saluted.

"Ah, gentlemen. Escort this fine citizen to the cells." Arthur pushed the man towards the guards. He tripped, falling into the guards, almost bringing them down with him. Arthur turned to the old man and helped him stand.

"And him, sir?" one of the guards asked.

"I have it under control. Go." Arthur commanded.

The guards dragged the assailant away. Arthur put the old man's arm over his shoulder and helped him walk out of the alley. Under the light of the lanterns, Arthur saw the old man wasn't that old. His hair was greasy and limp, his salt and pepper beard scraggly and reeking of ale, his weathered face smeared with dirt. He sat the man down on a bench.

"Thank you," the man coughed out, his breath strong with ale.

"Not a problem, sir." Arthur backed away, but the man's hand grabbed Arthur's coat.

"Wait." The man reached into his pocket and pulled out a palm-sized octagonal brass box. He opened the lid to reveal it was a compass. "Have it. Maybe it'll do more for you than it did for me."

"A compass," Arthur observed. It was an appropriate gift for a naval officer, though he had many.

The man chuckled. "Aye, but not just any compass. This compass leads you to your greatest desire."

"So why don't you keep it?"

The man stared the compass, his eyes bloodshot and melancholic. "It worked, and it brought me to my treasure. But I wanted more. I became a man obsessed with materials and lost everything. The bloody thing only leads me to the tavern now." He sighed and tossed the compass to Arthur. "Don't make the same mistake I did."

Arthur caught it and watched the disk spin before pointing southeast. _Is it broken?_

"Your treasure…cherish it…" the man said wistfully.

* * *

For the rest of the night, Arthur couldn't stop thinking about the man and his compass. It carried over into the morning as he had breakfast with his father. Lord Uther Pendragon gave his son a rare praise. He would always say that victory was duty, like how it was expected of Arthur to become the youngest Commodore in the Royal Navy. Then Uther would rant about rewards and how people should turn in a criminal because he's a criminal, not because they would get a reward for doing so.

_Money,_ _g__old, treasure, the compass… _Arthur's thoughts strayed. After breakfast, he sought out the only person who might get his mind off the drunken man and his compass.

As he made his way through town, people congratulated him as they passed. When he arrived at his destination, the smithy, he stopped in his tracks. He saw Guinevere (she insists he call her Gwen like everyone else), the blacksmith's daughter. It wasn't seeing her that stopped him in his tracks as usual, it was who she was speaking to. It was Lance du Lac, a dockhand. Women would loiter at the docks just to see him lift crates. Arthur tried to shake the creeping jealousy. He proceeded forward, catching their attention.

Lance saw him first. "Good day, Commodore Pendragon," he greeted.

Arthur nodded stiffly then turned to Gwen. "Guinevere, could I have a word?"

"Of course, Commodore," She bid Lance farewell.

Arthur couldn't help but notice the lingering look Lance gave her before Gwen invited him into her home next to the forge.

"So, what can I do for you Commodore?" she asked, her back to him as she lit the stove. "Tea?"

"Please, and how many times do I have to tell you-"

"To call you Arthur, I know." She looked back at him over her shoulder, smiling.

They drank their tea in silence. Gwen studied Arthur over her cup. "How are you feeling?"

She was the first person to ask him that since his return.

He spent the last two months chasing the _Forbearnan. _It came down to a fierce battle in the middle of the ocean. The HMS _Excalibur _only managed to get a few nonthreatening holes blown into her. Cannon fire and gunshots rang among the clashing of swords. Captain Melwas and a bulk of his crew swung from his ship to the _Excalibur_, turning the deck into a battlefield. Arthur and Melwas found each other face to face. They were evenly matched with the pirate's dirty tricks and Arthur's trained precision, each receiving superficial cuts.

An explosion from the _Forbearnan_ rocked the _Excalibur_. Melwas turned around to see half his ship raining down from the sky. Taking advantage, Arthur ran him through with his sword. Melwas staggered, looked at Arthur with feral eyes, then his ship. With his last ounce of strength, Melwas swung back to the _Forbearnan_ and fell to his knees. He looked to the heavens in despair. That's when the mast broke, and the last thing Captain Melwas saw was the wooden pole coming down on him.

As the rest of the _Forbearnan_ sank, Arthur wished the ship had gone down as a burning inferno like the hell it came from. He wished the mad pirate was facing him when he ran him through. He wished his mother was alive.

The entire trip back, the _Excalibur _smelled of gunpowder and blood.

Arthur exhaled. "I'm just glad to be home."

They shared a smile.

"I need to show you something," he said, changing the subject as he pulled the compass out of his pocket. He passed it to Gwen and watched as she studied it, admiring the metalwork like he knew she would.

He told her the story of the old man.

She laughed. "It points to your greatest desire? Is that why it doesn't point north?" She walked around the room, poking at the disk.

Arthur came up behind her to look at it over her shoulder.

The disk spun rapidly.

Arthur took the compass back. _What happened?_

Gwen went to the table to retrieve the cups. The compass stopped spinning. It pointed to him. No, behind him.

…_leads you to your greatest desire…_

He turned around and watched as the arrow tracked Gwen's every movement. A twitch to the left when she moved left, a twitch to the right when she moved right.

"The great Commodore Arthur Pendragon, rattled by a gimmick." Gwen turned to him, hands on her hips, an amused grin plastered on her face.

Out of curiosity, Arthur gave the compass back to Gwen.

"Why-"

The arrow pointed at him.

He took it back. Gwen's grin fell as she became more confused than amused.

The arrow pointed to her.

He bowed his head, laughing to himself. "I don't think it's broken, Guinevere." He gave her back the compass.

"Arthur, what are you going on about?" She was beginning to worry. Maybe he's spent too much time at sea.

"This compass leads you to your greatest desire," Arthur repeated the man's words.

Gwen looked back and forth between Arthur and the compass. The arrow pointed at him.

Arthur bit back a smirk. "Is there something you wish to tell me, _Guinevere_?"

She shut the compass, embarrassed. "I could ask you the same thing, _Arthur._"

Arthur stepped closer to Gwen; he covered her hands with his, trapping the compass between them. He imagined the disk spinning unable to stop, the magnetism strong between them.

"It was a woman…" Arthur said softly. "The man was talking about a woman."

At some point during Arthur's epiphany, they had gravitated closer together, the brass of the compass warmed between their hands. They confessed to each other, surprised by how long they've both been harboring their feelings.

Arthur thought about throwing the compass away or giving it to someone, but Gwen wouldn't let him.

"Keep it for when you find yourself lost," she said. "So you'll always find your way back to me."

* * *

**A/N: **In case you didn't know, Melwas is from the Arthurian legend.

And I hope you didn't mind um…Melwas' dramatic death. Or the cheesiness in general. (I wrote at 4am XD)

The next one has vampires, and it's almost 4,000 words so it's not really a drabble then, is it? But who cares, it's more Arwen and that's all that matters :D

I hope you enjoyed this, and **thank you** all for reading and reviewing!


	4. Undying Love

**Summary:** Arthur and Gwen are for eternity. Vampire AU

**Author's Note:** So I take supernatural creatures seriously, especially vampires. And I'm super serious about Arwen. And I got this idea for a super serious vampire!arwen drabble. And it turned into a seriously long thing. And I got really serious, but kinda lost where I was going. So I tried to stop before it got seriously stupid. I tried to make it as much as my own as possible without being too ridiculous, but there are a few words borrowed from Being Human and True Blood, and The Vampire Diaries (even though I'm not a fan).

**Warnings: **Ravers and a bunny meet gruesome end. Lots of blood.

**Disclaimer:** When I Dream of You lyrics from Dancing On The Edge appear which I obviously don't own.

**Undying Love**

Arthur contemplated early retirement as he drank his second coffee in the busy café. It was winter and people filed in to escape the cold. Christmas was right around the corner, and he always felt apathetic this time of year. His lunch break ended an hour ago, but he was head of the Albion Vampire Authority, vampire king of the United Kingdom, and he thought he deserved the extra time, and frankly, he didn't want to go back outside.

He observed the patrons. He saw couples mooning over each other, friends crowding in booths, an aspiring novelist working on their manuscript. His eyes stopped on a teenage girl reading a book. He recognized the cover as a popular vampire novel. He loved reading tales about his kind, entertained by how close to or how far from the truth authors were.

Crosses had no effect, and garlic gave blood a weird aftertaste. An invitation was unfortunately necessary to enter a home, but then again, shouldn't everyone only enter if invited? Then there was the sun myth. It was harmful to anyone who stood in it for too long. And if he sparkled in the sun, he'd stake himself. Staking was absolutely true. It was the only way out of the contract of immortality, but he wouldn't turn into a pile of dust.

Vampires were very much like humans, but more alive. They were brought to the brink of death before being turned, given the blood of those blessed with immortality.

Blood. They needed it more for strength than actual survival. When Arthur and his sister were children, the original kings made a deal for a power that would help them rule and protect their kingdoms forever. In the days of war and conquering, an immortal army was worth any price. Blood would keep you strong, and control was vital. If you lost control, succumbing to bloodlust or have too large a population and deplete your resources, you'll live your immortal life frail and starving for energy until you drive a stake through your own heart.

One of the glorious things about being human is having choices. You can choose right or wrong, succumb or overcome, take life or give life.

Yes, vampires were very much like humans.

Human blood was the best, but Arthur hasn't fed on a human since _her_. Animal blood was substitute, but not as satisfying. The vampire a few tables over, on the other hand, fed on a human quite recently. The vampire raised his mug to Arthur.

A tall, lanky figure managed to block his view. "My mum told me I could be anything I wanted when I grew up," the lanky man said as he flopped into the seat across from Arthur. "I don't think she had assistant to an Old One in mind."

"You know I hate that name, Merlin." His father was one of the original kings. Arthur didn't need to be reminded he was old; he really started to feel it for the last eighty years.

"Well you _are." _Merlin pulled a file out of his bag. "Here are the reports, since it doesn't seem like you're coming back to the office anytime soon." Merlin was one of the few humans adopted into the vampire community, trusted to keep their secrets, and the only one to work in the Authority.

Arthur flipped through the papers. More bodies were turning up with clear vampire bites. Some rabid vampire or untrained baby vamp was endangering their secret. Arthur sighed. He really wasn't in the mood.

* * *

It was a bloodbath.

The bodies of ravers littered the floor of the warehouse. Neon fuzzy boots were matted with blood, and rainbow patterned clothing was turned solid red.

Gwen walked around the bodies, the click of her boot heels drowning in the puddles of blood.

"I found a live one!" Gwen saw a jittery vampire pounce, and the high pitched scream of a teenage boy was cut short to a gurgle as the vampire gnawed at his throat.

Gwen looked away in disgust. _Urgh, baby vamps._

A hand clutched her ankle, alerting Gwen and bringing her attention down to the girl lying on her back at her feet. She could almost feel the finger nails pierce through the leather.

Fishnet arm warmers were ripped at the wrist, blood still flowing out a sloppy bite wound. At her neck, the vampire was more aggressive.

"H-Hel-p m-m-m-e," the girl wheezed. She tried to pull herself up and reach for Gwen with her other hand. Two more bites were on that arm.

"Finish the job, _Guinevere!_" a sharp female voice barked out the order. Gwen didn't need to turn around to see Morgana standing at the DJ's booth, surveying the carnage with a victorious smile. She could feel Morgana's serpent green eyes burning holes in the back of her head. Gwen looked at the girl staring back at her in fear, eyeballs shaking in her skull. The girl tried to speak again and choked. She fell back with a soft _splat_ in a puddle of her own blood.

_Dead._

"What a waste." Gwen's ears picked up Morgana's muttering.

"I need air," Gwen said and looked over her shoulder up at Morgana in the booth silently asking, "_Is that okay with you_?" Morgana dismissed her with a wave of her hand.

Lifting her foot out of the now loose hold of the dead girl, Gwen made her way to the exit, trailing bloody footprints behind her. She passed the boy slain by the baby vamp; his neck was barely attached to his body. When she reached the exit, she found Morgause blocking the door. She smiled coolly at Gwen before opening it.

Once Gwen stepped out, the door was slammed shut behind her.

* * *

Arthur heard the door to his penthouse open. He was beginning to regret ever giving Merlin a key. Merlin found him in the kitchen, nursing a beer and an old black and white photograph next to it.

"I brought you a present!" Merlin declared as he pushed a small lunch bag cooler in front of him. Arthur found a few blood bags inside. "It's rabbit, fresh from Gauis' veterinary."

_You ate Mr. Hopper!_

"I don't drink rabbit blood." Arthur took a swig from the bottle.

Merlin stared blankly at him. "What am I supposed to do with this, then?"

Arthur sighed. "How about I turn you, and you can drink it."

He put the cooler in the refrigerator, missing the face Merlin made behind his back, but he heard him ask for a beer. "Get it yourself," he said, returning to the table empty-handed. He saw Merlin eyeing the old photograph.

The woman in it was beautiful. Her dark hair was cut to a curly bob popular in the thirties, and the diamond clip on the side barely twinkled compared to her eyes. She was caught in mid-laugh. Merlin could only imagine the melodious sound she emitted as she reclined on a chaise lounge, the sequins of her gown shining as bright as her smile.

"I ate her rabbit."

Merlin snapped his gaze up. "_What?_"

Arthur picked up the photo, fingering it gently. He smiled to himself. "And I haven't had it since."

He was starving. The battle was brutal and he lost a lot of blood. Despite his deteriorating health, he patrolled the lower town. The people had fled to the woods while the rich and noble, vampire and human, barricaded themselves in the citadel.

There were bodies scattered about, mostly men who probably died protecting their families. Arthur eyed the bodies with temptation, his vision alternating between blurry from fatigue to sharp from adrenaline fueled desperation and hunger.

They didn't drink from the dead. They drink from willing servants, those honored to provide for the royal family and army, and those who offer their blood for coin.

He turned away, staggering down the street with no real destination. He hoped someone showed up soon, though he'd have to use every ounce of strength he had left to not attack them in an instant, going straight for the jugular. Nothing tasted worse than fear, only the sadistic favored the taste. And he most certainly didn't have the energy to compel them to relax.

Arthur stumbled into a small house. He heard a rapid heartbeat coming from the corner. His vision sharpened again as he honed in on a plump white rabbit sprinkled with brown spots sitting in a wooden cage. He found a meal.

When he finished, he was barely full, but his vision was clearer and his wounds were healing faster. He heard the door creak open and close and soft footsteps that stopped behind him. He turned around slowly to find a child standing behind him, a girl about ten.

For a second, Arthur thought about how fresh her blood would taste.

_Thump!_

The rabbit's foot fell from his lap onto the floor.

Her eyes looked from the rabbit's foot to the tufts of fur stuck to Arthur's chainmail that was splashed with blood. Tears welled in her eyes as her face scrunched in fury. "You ate Mr. Hopper!"

Shocked sober, Arthur scrambled to his feet, more pieces of Mr. Hopper revealed behind him. She was about to yell again, but he rushed forward shocking her silent. "Please don't scream. I'm not going to hurt you," he pleaded. Arthur cursed his hunger; they don't feed on children. He raised his hands in surrender, looking into her eyes hoping she'd see his sincerity. Though it was dark, he could make out the freckles that dusted across her nose and cheeks…_like Mr. Hopper_.

"You're the Prince," She stated.

He nodded. "I am."

"That doesn't give you the right to come into someone's home and eat their friends!"

Arthur was taken aback by her outburst. "Is this your home?" She shook her head. That explained why he was able to get in without an invite. The owners were dead.

"My parents died before the war. The neighbors took me in, well, me and Mr. Hopper. They're dead too, my neighbors. They never made it to the woods."

"You're alone." Arthur thought for a moment, intrigued by this little girl brave enough to return to town on her own before anyone else, and to tell him off. "What's your name?"

"My name is Guinevere, my lord, but everyone calls me Gwen."

Arthur offered his hand to her. "Well, Guinevere, I'm sorry for eating Mr. Hopper." It was the first time Arthur Pendragon ever apologized.

Gwen stared at his hand. He had forgotten about the blood. He hastily wiped as much as he could away on his pants leg before raising it again, a sheepish look on his face.

She took it.

"She looks much older than ten in this picture." Merlin now held the photograph; he couldn't help but be entranced by it. "She's a vampire."

"I brought her to live in the castle. She served my sister, and they grew close. Guinevere was so dedicated to her service that she didn't want to leave Morgana, so Morgana sired her," Arthur explained somberly.

Merlin grew extremely curious at Arthur's tone. "What happened to her?"

"Don't you have a job to do?" Arthur tried to evade.

"Don't you?" Merlin shot back. Arthur glared at him. "Clearly you're in a mood, so I'm gonna head back to HQ." Before he left he took the cooler and a beer.

It was ten years after bringing her to the castle when Arthur felt himself falling for Gwen. When he first brought her to Morgana, his sister coddled her. Their father thought Morgana had taken a child as a pet, so Morgana made Gwen her handmaiden. Then for the last four years, she's been serving as Morgana's private blood servant. The first time Morgana drank her blood, Gwen came to him in the middle of the night.

Sixteen-year-old Gwen sat in the chair, hands in her lap, her eyes fixed on the area of her wrist where Morgana fed from her. The bite was healed with Morgana's blood, but the sensation was still there.

Arthur knelt in front of her and covered her hands with his. "You don't have to keep doing this, you know."

"No, I'm fine," she said. "I have to do this. Morgana's taken such good care of me. I'd do it for you, too! Uh…I mean, if you needed…"

"Are you sure you're okay?" His thumb caressed her wrist where the bite was.

"Yes, I'm sure," she said. He believed her and pulled her up with him.

Arthur kissed her forehead. "Get some sleep, Guinevere."

For the next four years, Gwen would occasionally show up in his chambers earlier than when Morgana would normally retire for the night. They would just talk, or she'd mostly just listen to him speak about his concerns about the kingdom.

Arthur drained the cup of wine he had started before Gwen arrived. He poured a cup for her before refilling his. "So…who's the serving girl my sister has replaced you with?"

"_Manservant._" Gwen corrected, harsher than she intended.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Are you jealous?"

"No! I mean, it's been going on for a while. Well, it started as Morgana having other _needs_." Arthur grimaced. "She can have both with him. All I have to do is dress her, and make her bed, and do her laundry. I'm just feeling sort of useless, I guess."

Arthur took a sip of his wine. Gwen noticed his hand shaking, and he looked a bit pale. They were symptoms of blood withdrawal. He didn't stop feeding on purpose, he would just lose his appetite when a serving girl would come when he calls. He only had one servant on his mind, and he didn't have the heart to drink from her.

"I'm fine," he said as he stood and stumbled. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, and the smell of lavender flooded his senses. He knew Gwen was standing in front of him now. Her hands cupped his cheeks.

Arthur opened his eyes, bright sapphire darkened. Gwen's heart pounded. He closed his eyes again, groaning, leaning forward slightly.

"You need to feed," he barely heard Gwen say over the sound of her heartbeat. Keeping his eyes closed, he turned his head and kissed her palm, then her wrist. Gwen's lips parted in anticipation. Hearing her slight intake of breath, Arthur opened his eyes, focusing on her before his head followed. He ducked his head and captured her lips with his. Before Gwen could respond, Arthur pulled away.

He pressed his cheek to hers. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," she replied without hesitation.

He kissed her cheek, her jaw, and then the pulse point of her neck. He nibbled, teasing her, preparing her. His fangs extended and penetrated her flesh. She tensed for a moment, letting out a small gasp. Arthur would've pulled away, but one of her hands clutched his tunic at his chest while the other went from the nape of his neck and trailed up into his hair as she pressed herself closer to him.

Arthur has never tasted anything so rich, so pure. He was instantly jealous of Morgana for having Gwen all to herself, but at the same time, he thought his sister foolish for giving her up. He felt Gwen's grip slacken, and he pulled away before he lost control. The bite welled; he caught a trickle of blood with his tongue before it made its way down her neck. Arthur had to stop himself.

He bit his lip so it bled. He kissed his bite on her neck, his blood healing her.

"You're not useless. Don't ever think that," he murmured into her neck before pulling away.

"Arthur…" she said breathlessly, fixated on his bloodstained lips. She lifted on her toes and kissed him hard, tasting their mingled blood.

* * *

Gwen watched the footage of the warehouse burning on the late night news. They were calling it an accident. A rave gone wrong. Gwen turned off the television and stared blankly at the black screen. She saw Morgana standing behind her in the reflection.

"What's on your mind, Gwen?"

"I want you to release me." The words flowed out of her mouth.

Morgana was in front of her in an instant, gripping her arms. "_What did you say?_"

"I want you to release me," Gwen repeated.

"Why would you want such a thing?" Morgana asked frantically. "I thought we were sisters! You-You were the one who wanted this, to serve me _forever_!" she shrieked. Her grip on Gwen's arms tightened.

Gwen winced. "I've been loyal to you for centuries, Morgana, even after you forced me to leave him. I loved him! I _still_ love him! I can't take this anymore. You force to feed on humans to excess. To kill. I can't be part of this warpath you're on. You're conjuring seven different types of hell just to spite your family!"

"You're my family, Gwen."

Morgause casually walked into the room. "Hurry, _sister_. Don't keep her waiting. She already has her suitcase packed." She casually picked dried blood out from under her fingernails.

Gwen never trusted Morgause. She was an instigator, a manipulator, and the fuel to Morgana's fire.

There was a heavy silence in the room before Morgana broke it. "How long were you planning this?" She snarled. "Oh, my sweet, sweet, Gwen. You're going to run back to him, aren't you? Go back to being his little whore."

When Gwen was still a little girl, she gave Morgana a bouquet of wild flowers. She held them up in front of her face and shyly said, "These are for you, my lady."

Morgana bent down looking Gwen in the eyes over the other side of the bouquet. "You are the sweetest thing," she said. "A sweet voice, sweet honey brown eyes, a sweet face hiding behind this sweet bouquet."

"Release me, Morgana." This time Gwen's voice was cold and her eyes were hard with defiance. "I will not ask you again."

The slightest look of loss could be seen in Morgana's eyes before her jaw clenched, her face turning to stone. She dropped her arms and backed away. Looking her progeny in the eye she said, "I release you…Guinevere."

Gwen let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She felt her chest constrict then release. It was the most relief she felt since Morgana took her away. She was free.

"Don't thank me. In fact, I should be the one thanking you." Morgana said impassively. "At least I won't be forced to feel anything when you die."

"Goodbye, Morgana," Gwen said. This time she closed the door behind herself.

* * *

Gwen sat on Morgana's bed, her fingers nervously picking at the sheets just like the first time she sat on her bed fourteen years ago.

Morgana sat next to her and held her hand. Arthur stood off to the side, a bundle of nerves.

"You can go, Arthur," Morgana said.

He tried to protest.

She smiled warmly. "Go, dear brother. I'll get you when it's done."

Arthur still looked hesitant. Gwen gave him a nod of reassurance. With one last look, Arthur left Morgana's chambers.

They watched the door close behind him. Gwen gripped Morgana's hand. "I'm ready."

Morgana hugged Gwen, buried her face in her neck, and bit down. Morgana never fed from her neck, and Gwen could immediately tell the difference between the siblings approach. Arthur's fangs had pierced her slowly, as gently as possible. Morgana was quick and anxious.

Her mistress drank fiercely. Gwen was finding it harder to breathe; her heart pounded heavily, her body panicking. Morgana didn't relent, and her body stopped fighting. She tired and her vision darkened as her eyelids closed. Her body went limp.

Morgana felt the blood flow slower and sucked harder. She couldn't get enough. Gwen's blood was like fine wine matured with age. She regretted pushing Gwen to the side in favor for a manservant.

When she realized she couldn't feel Gwen's pulse against her lips, she broke away with a gasp. Gwen's head lolled back, arms limp at her sides. _No. No! NO! _Morgana panicked.

Uther told his children that when they decided to become a maker, to not drain all the blood. The last bit of their future progeny's old life must be left in them.

She laid Gwen down on the bed. She bit her wrist and brought it to Gwen's mouth. "Drink, Gwen," Morgana pleaded. "Come on, Gwen. You have to _drink_!" She wedged her wrist deeper between Gwen's lips. "Please, Guinevere! _Please don't leave me!_"

Gwen's lips twitched against Morgana's wrist, her throat bobbed as she drank. Tears of relief flowed down Morgana's face. Gwen's hands came up to clutch Morgana's wrist, trying to bring it even closer. Her grip tightened and her feeding became more aggressive.

"That's enough, Gwen." Morgana said soothingly as she pried herself gently from Gwen's mouth. Gwen's head instinctively lifted as her nose followed the scent of blood.

The Gwen's eyes shot open and she collapsed back on the bed. She could taste the sweet, sharp, metallic taste of blood on each taste bud. She focused on the roof of the canopy bed. It shook with vibrations as she tried to focus, then she saw each individual grain.

Morgana was calling her name. Turning her head she saw Morgana lean over her, gently grasping her shoulders. Gwen watched as each raven strand fell over her maker's shoulder, moving together and swaying like an inky black curtain.

"Morgana," Gwen's voice rasped as she reached for her.

Morgana helped her sit up and hugged her tightly. "I'm here, Gwen." She rocked her newborn progeny. "Forever."

* * *

_Christmas Eve, 1933_

Gwen wrote on the back of the photograph and tucked it into the breast pocket of Arthur's tuxedo jacket. As her hand lifted away, Arthur took it in his and brought his other to rest on the small of her back.

"What are you doing?" Gwen asked teasingly.

"Dance with me, Guinevere."

"There's no music." She said as her hand rested on his forearm.

Arthur brought his head down closer to hers, noses touching. "There's always music."

They rocked slowly side to side. Gwen placed her head on his chest and Arthur rested his chin on top of her head. She began to hum. He knew the song well, he listened to her sing it countless times.

_When I dream of you_

_Dream the whole night through…_

The candlelight flickered and reflected off her gold sequin gown making it glitter and shine as if it too were a flame. Arthur took advantage of the opened back of her dress, and his fingers slowly stroked up and down her spine.

Gwen smiled and continued to hum.

_Lie awake and softly whisper_

"_I'm quite in love with you…"_

Later that night, Gwen laid in their bed on her stomach as Arthur trailed slow opened mouth kisses up her back. He reached the bite on her shoulder he gave her moments ago and licked away the blood as it healed closed. Gwen's head rested on the pillow to the side, her eyes closed and a satiated smile on her face.

"I love you, Guinevere," Arthur whispered in her ear.

It was their last night together.

Uther called everyone to the headquarters Christmas morning. Arthur, Morgana, and his core council sat in the conference room. Gwen stood dutifully behind her maker.

"I called you here to announce my retirement. I wanted you all to know first. I'm passing the Authority to my son, Arthur." Uther said.

"What?" the Pendragon siblings said in unison.

"I've seen you lead the most brutal battles and achieve the most glorious victories, Arthur. You are always ready to take on anything, especially in these ever-changing times. You are ready to be King. You've been ready for a long time. Do me proud, son." Uther placed a firm, supportive hand his shoulder.

Morgana bolted out of her seat. "It's not fair!" she shouted. "I work harder. You're only giving it Arthur because your mind is stuck in the Dark Ages!"

Uther rose from his seat, everyone followed. "You're too irrational, Morgana. At a sudden irritation, you become Elizabeth Báthory!" Uther stated.

Morgana was boiling. Uther always favored Arthur. She would always be his bastard daughter. There were times when she truly loved Arthur as her brother, but in moments like these, she truly hated him. To her, he was just her half brother. Uther mourned Arthur's mother, but not hers. He raised Arthur, he took Morgana in when she was ten. They may share Uther's blood, but Arthur was his _son_.

She should be Queen. Gwen would now have more power than her in the Authority. Uther never approved of Arthur and Gwen's relationship, but they lasted longer than any known vampire couple, a millennium devoted to each other. They had a sire bond forged from love.

Morgana had been entertained by their relationship, how gentle and domesticated Arthur became around Gwen. As her maker, Morgana could sense the way Arthur made her progeny feel. It was a different love that Morgana wasn't sure she could give or ever receive.

Gwen was a buffer between the siblings. She had a lovely way of not choosing sides and not having one feeling loved more than the other. But now Gwen will stand at Arthur's side as his queen. She'll have more power than her.

Morgana's temper flared. "I've led, I've fought! And I get nothing!"

"Stop acting like a petulant child, Morgana. I'll be happy to have you as head of council." Arthur offered.

She snapped. "I'll show you petulant child, dear brother." She glared. "_Guinevere!_" she called. "We're leaving."

Gwen gave Morgana a questioning look. "Morg—"

"As your maker, I forbid you to see Arthur ever again." Morgana would always remember the crushing look on Arthur's face.

Before anyone could say a word, Gwen and Morgana were gone, not to be seen again for the next eighty years.

* * *

It was almost three in the morning when Merlin left the office. He passed the rabbit blood off to Gwaine, who took the beer too. He trudged down the sidewalk; it's been a long day. Not paying attention, he tripped over a suitcase.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" A woman said. Merlin looked to see her scramble up from her sitting position on the sidewalk curb. When he saw her face, Merlin gaped.

"You-You-It's you! I can't believe it's you!" Merlin exclaimed, pointing at her.

A million scenes went through Gwen's head as she wondered where Merlin knew her from, fearing he's seen her with Morgana in one of the many horrible acts she was forced to commit. She just heard the trail end of what he was saying.

"…ur rabbit, Mr. Hopper!"

"What did you just say?" Gwen's eyes went wide.

"Arthur ate your rabbit, Mr. Hopper. You're Guinevere! I've seen your picture."

"You know…Arthur…?" She hadn't said his name in eighty years.

"Unfortunately, I do. That prat bleeds me dry, figuratively, of course." Merlin's excitement died down when he realized she was looking at him funny. "I'm Merlin, by the way. It's nice to meet you, Guinevere."

She couldn't believe this human. "Call me Gwen…" It's the only thing she could manage to get out.

Merlin eyed the suitcase. "Are you going somewhere?"

She didn't have much of a plan for when she would leave Morgana. She honestly didn't think Morgana would let her go. She went to the Authority, hoping to find Arthur, but it was too late and she knew he wasn't there, so she sat on the curb in defeat. "I wasn't…Could you take me…to him?" she asked hesitantly.

A wide smile spread across Merlin's face. "Of course!"

The most Arthur had moved since Merlin left was to lay his head in his arms on the table. He heard the jittering of the lock and the door swing open and bang against the wall. Groaning in annoyance, he got up and walked to the hall shouting, "Merlin, I'm really considering revoking your key privileges!"

"Not after this you won't," Merlin said smugly as he moved out of the doorway and walked passed Arthur.

Arthur's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe his eyes. "Guinevere…"

"Hello, Arthur." Gwen looked down at the threshold then back to him, eyes brimming with tears, lips curved in a smile. "Can I come in?"

Her voice snapped him out his trance. He walked to the doorway and stood just on the other side of the entrance.

"_Please_." It was an invitation and a prayer as he brought his hand up for her to take before she was taken from him again. "Come in."

Gwen stepped over the threshold and into his arms.

* * *

**A/N: ** There's a lot more, but I thought it was best to stop. Sorry for the awkward dialogue in the confrontation scenes. I'm not good with confrontation, let alone making it up XD Also, sorry for any plotholeish things and skimpy details. It was getting too deep and my brain was crying .

**Thanks always** for reading and reviewing!


	5. The Lord and the Governess

**Summary:** Arthur's sister ran off, rendering their father to an empty shell, and his uncle—he doesn't even know where to start with his uncle. He finds his sister's former maid, and asks her to help him restore order to the household. He really shouldn't, though, because he still loves her and is engaged.

**Author's Note: **A little bit of Downton Abbey/Upstairs Downstairs influence.

**The Lord and the Governess**

Arthur stepped out of the car and made his way up the steps of an estate. The butler greeted him and led him into the drawing room. "Her ladyship will see you in a moment, my lord." He bowed and left Arthur alone in the room.

He's only been to the Caerleon estate once as a child. The room hasn't changed since then, not even the very large and ferocious wolf head mounted on the wall.

"I remember when you caught sight of it and hid behind your mother's skirts," a woman's voice brought his attention back to the present. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Lord Pendragon?" Lady Annis Caerleon made her way to Arthur. Her deep blue gown, brown fur wrapped around her shoulders, and auburn hair camouflaged her in the earth toned room.

"Lady Annis," Arthur greeted with a kiss on the back of her hand. "You know why I'm here."

Despite being shorter, she still managed to look down at him. "Ah, yes, you're here to steal my grandchildren's governess."

Arthur let out a nervous laugh. "I'm not stealing her."

"No, you're just buying her back."

He shifted his weight from foot to foot. "Does she know that I'm here?"

Annis' mouth tightened, accentuating the wrinkles around her mouth. "Not yet. She will be sent down when the children are done with their lessons. Come. Let's sit." They sat on opposite ends of the couch. Annis draped her arm over the back and her body faced his. She watched Arthur hunch forward, elbows on knees and hands clasped in front of him. "She's a very smart girl. She told me her mother was lady maid to your mother. The two of you grew up together." Annis paused. "As much a little serving girl and little lord can."

Arthur refused to meet her gaze. The sounds of children's laughter could be heard on the other side of the door followed by a knock.

"Enter," Annis called.

The door creaked open and Arthur saw a delicate brown hand come from the other side of the door stopping it from opening farther, the same hand that caressed his cheek as its owner kissed him goodbye. Her head peeked around. "You wished to—" She paused when she saw Arthur who straightened at the site of her. She fully stepped into the room and composed herself, focusing only on Annis. "You wished to see me, your ladyship."

The last time Arthur saw her, she was wearing a maid's uniform. She stood smartly in a white blouse with matching neck sash tied in a bow tucked into a high-waisted black skirt. Her low heeled shoes were immaculate, the finest pair she's ever worn. Her curly hair was tied back in a chignon. He could tell it was longer by the length of the loose curls that she tucked behind her ear that fell past her shoulders.

Annis stood. Arthur followed behind her. "I don't believe an introduction is necessary. I'll just leave the two of you to talk."

Once the door closed behind Annis, Arthur cut straight to the point. "I need you, Guinevere."

_I need you, Guinevere. _He used to say that to her a lot. He'd say it when he would try to prank Morgana, when he would seek her counsel, when they were pressed skin to skin. She loved it when he said her name, the way he'd caress the syllables as if he were physically touching her. Now, she was Gwen the Governess; Gwen, former maid to Lady Morgana. She was no longer Arthur's _Guinevere. _She should've never been Arthur's Guinevere.

On the servants' days off, Gwen would often stay on the estate. She'd get extra work done, and Arthur would come downstairs to pester her, get in her way and coax her to stop. He'd follow her to the attic bedrooms, and in her room they'd lie together in bed. He'd trace lazy circles on her shoulder as she nestled into his.

"I'll make you a Lady," he'd say.

She'd say, "I won't let you."

Because Gwen can never be a lady. Lady Guinevere is no title for a servant. Lords don't marry maids. They'll say she seduced him because how could a lord could love a maid.

"Father's not doing well. It's been nearly three years since Morgana left, and I was hoping he'd get a bit better, come to terms with it, but he's only getting worse. He's a broken man. And then there's Uncle Agravaine. I don't even know where to begin with him." As Arthur explained Camelot's impending downfall, he paced and ran his hands through his hair. "And the servants are all out of sorts."

Gwen crossed her arms.

"What I mean to say is, Merlin is the best behaved out of them, not counting George," Arthur amended.

"You want me to play governess to the staff?"

"Yes. No! Not exactly. I need you to help me fix…everything." Arthur sighed heavily. He remembered times when his father would be away, and how his mother would run the household with her maid at her side. Gwen would often be at her mother's side as she tended to Lady Ygraine, observing, studying how to be a proper lady's maid, and accidently, how to be a proper lady.

Gwen took in his words and weighed her options. "What about Lady Mithian? I hear she's very smart. Have you even asked her? She is your future wife, after all."

Arthur didn't answer. He had one, but it wasn't appropriate. "It was selfish of me to ask this of you. I'll take my leave now."

Gwen walked with him to the entrance in silence. Annis was conversing with a maid at the base of the staircase. She dismissed the maid and went to them, standing matronly behind Gwen. "Give my regards to your father."

Arthur nodded to her before turning his attention back to Gwen. "It was nice seeing you again, Guinevere," he said, praying it wasn't going to be the last time.

* * *

As Gwen stared at George's shocked face, she realized she never used the front entrance of Camelot before.

George led her in and they ran into Lady Mithian, Arthur's fiancée. Gwen couldn't help but compare herself to her. She felt small and dull…and guilty.

"Oh, hello," Mithian said lightly, but wary, not knowing who Gwen was.

George opened and closed his mouth several times, trying to phrase a proper introduction.

"Gwen!"

The three of them looked up. Merlin was leaning over the railing of the grand staircase, his mouth open with glee. Arthur was next to him, his expression unreadable. Merlin ran down the stairs and enveloped Gwen in a hug.

George tutted and Mithian looked confused. When Arthur reached them, he whispered to her that Gwen was a longtime servant at Camelot. Mithian _Oh'd_ but still didn't understand the nature of her visit.

"She's a governess to Lady Annis' grandchildren. I asked if she could lend her services here," Arthur began to explain but Mithian interrupted him.

"A governess? We aren't even wed. It's a bit soon to be hiring a one, don't you think? And she already has employment."

"Actually," Gwen started. "Her ladyship is sending the children to boarding school. " She gave a pointed look at Arthur. "She said you owe her."

A smile formed on Arthur's face. "That I do."

The only way Arthur could explain Gwen's arrival to Mithian was that she was going to help put the staff back in order and help take care of his father. An unconventional job for a governess, but Arthur has never been one to follow tradition.

He's been engaged to Mithian for three years, but their father's have arranged it since they were children. He was fine with it, until he fell for Gwen.

In the first year of their engagement, Morgana left and his father's health declined. And that's when Gwen left, claiming she missed Morgana too much, even though he knew that was a lie. Mithian agreed to put off the wedding until his father got better. Two years later, things have only gotten worse.

The whole household was asleep and Arthur made his way downstairs. He found Gwen sitting at the staff's dining table, exactly where he knew she would be.

The first time he saw her, they were children. His father disapproved of the time he spent downstairs, but his mother encouraged it. He saw his mother's maid, Rose, tending to a small girl, a splitting image of her. She was gently trying to get a splinter out of the girl's finger.

The girl was squeamish and tried to snatch her hand away, but Rose held it firmly. She looked away and saw him, her eyes wet with tears and her face blotchy.

"There," Rose said in the same soothing voice his mother would use to calm him. The girl turned back to Rose, shocked that she didn't feel anything. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" She tapped the girl's nose affectionately. "Now dry your eyes, my darling, and greet the young master."

The girl rubbed her nose, hopped out of her chair and curtsied. "Aft'noon, m'lord." Rose made a subtle _ahem_. "Good afternoon, my lord," the girl corrected herself.

Rose rested her hand on her shoulder. "This is my daughter, Guinevere."

Guinevere made a face.

"But she likes to be called Gwen," Rose continued, patting her shoulder. Gwen smiled up at her mother.

Arthur began calling Gwen by her full name to annoy her, but as they matured and grew closer, he said her name with friendliness, with love.

"Is your room not to your liking," he joked as he sat next to her.

"It's lovely, thank you. I'm pretty sure I cleaned it a few times, actually." Gwen reminisced. "You didn't have to. I would've been fine in the servant's quarters."

"You're not a servant anymore," he pointed out. "I've heard some of the older ones talk. They're very excited to have you back. What do you think about the new staff?"

Cook had nearly squeezed the life out of her when she came into the kitchen. "That maid, Eira, is extremely rude," Gwen stated."I tried suggesting to her how to easily get a stain out on Mithian's dress, and her exact words to me were 'I don't need no gov'ness tellin' me 'ow to clean all proper and such.'"

Arthur chuckled. "I'll fire her without a reference." He patted her hand, and he should've lifted it away instead of resting it on hers.

Gwen smiled knowingly. "I'll set her straight." She remembered when she taught Merlin how to walk and balance a tray with one hand when he first arrived, and how she would spend hours polishing the silver with George, and bear Cook's wrath on the most stressful of days. She could handle mouthy maid.

She surveyed the room. Dishes were left unwashed, laundry was left undelivered to the upstairs, the pantry was a disaster, and she's pretty sure she saw a mouse earlier. "Though, I might have my work cut out for me." She looked back at Arthur. "Maybe I'll be here long enough to be governess to your children."

"My children," Arthur mused. "I always wanted a daughter."

Gwen looked at him in wonder. "Really? But what about an heir?"

Arthur turned Gwen's hand in his. "Yes, I think it'd be fun. I'd love to chase away all her suitors." He traced her palm lines with his fingers. "I would hope she'd be just like her mother." He let go of her hand and cleared his throat. "Besides, if I had a son who turned out just like me when I was a child…"

"Then God help us all," Gwen finished.

They laughed together until Gwen broke first. "I should go." She got up to leave but stopped in the doorway. "I shouldn't be here, you know."

Arthur walked up behind her. "Thank you, Guinevere. Truly," he said, voice low.

She could almost feel his breath tickle her neck. When she turned around, he was even closer than she thought he was. She refused to look at him, so he lifted her chin up.

"You shouldn't," she muttered.

"I shouldn't," he agreed before he kissed her.

* * *

**A/N: **Does he break up with Mithian and marry Gwen? Does he marry Mithian and have kids and Gwen is their governess and they continue their affair? No idea. Let your imagination run wild!

As for **Undying Love**, I'll be turning that into a multi-chapter fic. I have no idea how it'll end, but I hope you stick around for that ride. :D

**THANK YOU FOR READING AND REVIEWING!**


	6. My Girlfriend is a Werewolf

**Summary:** Arthur sees his girlfriend in a new light and loves her even more.

**Author's Note: **Here's a little fluffy drabble.

**My Girlfriend is a Werewolf**

Arthur loved his girlfriend and she loved him. They were in a great place which is why he asked her to move in with him. It was like she was already slowly moving in when she would leave clothes, shoes, and books. They'd go shopping and she'd buy a mug or throw pillow and leave it at his flat. She went from staying for a night, to staying for a weekend, to a week. Even her favorite pillow found a new home on his bed.

It was a rainy Monday morning when Arthur asked Gwen to move in. She was getting out of his bed to get ready for work, and before she could untangle herself from him, Arthur's arms tightened around her.

"Stay," he murmured sleepily into her back, his breath tickling her spine.

She giggled. "I have to get to work."

"I know. I mean I want you to move in with me."

She turned in his arms, and now Arthur's head rested on her chest. She looked down at his disheveled blond locks and ran her fingers through them. "Really?"

He nuzzled her then scooted up to lay his head with hers on her favorite pillow. "Really." He pulled her closer and kissed her.

Gwen called out of work.

He never noticed how bland his place was before Gwen. It was once a bachelor pad with a neutral color palette and stainless steel appliances. Now, a granny square blanket was draped on the back of the couch (he didn't know what a granny square was before her), there were plants in the window, and a jar candle in a fancy metal holder on the coffee table. Quirky mugs, stylish storage for sugar and flour, and magnets on the refrigerator—he loved it all.

He proposed they get a new place that she could decorate to her liking. Not yet, she said. They can when they're married. She was fussing over the stove when she said it; she probably didn't realize what she said.

He didn't mind her slip. He was planning to propose to her eventually. For now he would settle with moving his things around to make room for hers. He loved that her dresses hung next to his suits, and that he cleared half his drawers for her clothes, and how some of his shirts would end up on her side. He loved that her lotions and soaps were next to his, her purple toothbrush next to his red one.

Gwen had been completely moved in for almost four weeks when Arthur found something he never thought to see in his home.

He was looking in the cabinet under the sink for more toilet paper. He pulled out the unopened four pack to find a colorful box behind it. He was about to grab it to get a better look, but saw the picture of a certain feminine product seen in commercials with women twirling while wearing white pants and skirts. Arthur replaced the roll and put the remaining three back under the cabinet, blocking the colorful box and shutting the door. Out of sight and out of mind.

It finally hit him that he was living with a woman. He knew that, of course. He knew that very well, but there were things about woman that he just didn't think about, didn't want to think about.

He knew what happened to woman during that "time of the month" but he never experienced it first hand, except for maybe his sister, but Morgana always acted like a harpy, so he couldn't tell the difference.

He's seen Gwen upset, but never moody. She's yelled at him a few times, but that's because he deserved it.

And then the time came.

He came home after dinner with his father and heard a groan coming from the living room. He found Gwen on the couch, lying on her side and wrapped in the granny square blanket. She moved, winced, and growled in agitation as she was unable to get comfortable.

"I thought a werewolf had got in," Arthur joked, putting a spin on the line she said about his snoring and pigs when they first slept together.

Gwen shot up. "Are you calling me a beast?" She glared.

Arthur loosened his tie. "No, it's just…every month. Sorry, bad joke."

"You think this is funny? Ha-ha my girlfriend is _howling_ in pain. She does this every month, so she must be a werewolf." She threw off the blanket and stomped up to him.

He looked down at his tiny girlfriend. Her hair was tied in a messy braid, she was wearing his favorite red hoodie, and her toes peeked out from purple plaid pajama pants.

He thought she was the most beautiful woman ever. "And you'd make a very beautiful werewolf."

"Don't patronize me, Arthur!" She scowled (adorably, in his opinion) and flopped down on the couch.

He settled next to her, cautiously, and she laid her head on his shoulder and sighed.

"Sorry for teasing," he said sincerely.

"Sorry for biting your head off," she muttered and wrapped her arms around his, curling into his side.

He could get used to this.

* * *

**A/N: Undying Love **is now a multi-chapter fic and **The Lord and the Governess **will be too. Yay!(?) The extremely rough drafts are already typed up for their next chapters, but those (and this) are going to be put on hold because of real life things I need to stop procrastinating on.

**Ser o no ser** requested superhero Arthur. I actually have something with powers planned lol

**Thanks always** for reading and reviewing!


	7. Excalibur

**Summary:** Captain Arthur Pendragon is on a mission to find his sister, the dreaded space pirate Morgana. But first, he needs a ship. Space AU

**Author's Note:** It's been like 3 months. How bout a new drabble? I got stuck on the superhero one I was going to post next in honor of Comic-Con but I got super writer's block. So space au instead! (which works, too.)

**Excalibur**

Camelot was the most affluent planet in the Albion star system, and its lush forest and crystal lakes made it a cool pearl standing out among the black backdrop of space. It was also home to the top officers in Albion's Starfleet, including the son of President Uther Pendragon.

Arthur always went above and beyond to make his father proud, much to the displeasure of his sister. With Uther always focusing his attention on his son, he neglected Morgana. The harder Arthur worked and was rewarded honors, the more Uther praised him, and the more Morgana would act out. Being the product of an affair, Morgana was already a black smudge on the Pendragon's pristine family history. Her becoming a space pirate wiped it out like the plague.

And now it was Arthur's job to bring her home.

Arthur found himself on Cameliard, the larger of Camelot's two terrestrial moons. Cameliard was rich in resources, especially metals, and responsible for Camelot's heavy industry. It's where the planet's ships were built, and Arthur had the most stunning picks in the system to choose from.

Accompanying him was his best friend and fellow graduate of the Albion Starfleet Academy, Pilot Merlin Emrys from Ealdor, Camelot's smaller moon. Merlin stared longingly at the rows of ships gleaming under the sun in the shipyard. "Are you sure you don't want something more…shiny?" They were standing a distance away from the ships and in front of an older, less glamorous one.

Arthur looked up at the older model. He knew this ship, it was made for him. He had named it before it was even built.

Growing up, he always went with his father to inspect the ships every month. Tom Leodegrance, manager of the shipyard and the greatest builder Camelot ever had, told Arthur that he'd build a ship special for him. Arthur swore that Tom was the greatest engineer in the universe, and so did everyone else. He's the reason why Camelot has the finest ships. And Tom had kept his promise; he began building the ship when Arthur went off to the Academy, unknown to Arthur. It was going to be a surprise gift for when he graduated.

Arthur perused the shipyard looking for one of Tom's ships that sang to him until they had reached the end. The new ships were a polished crimson, but this one was darker, the red deeper with age. They reached the dock and a worker came up to them.

"Captain Pendragon, hello! What can I do for you?" he asked, thrilled to see him. Arthur remembered John, Tom's partner. While they worked, his wife Mary would bring them the most delicious lunches that would put their cook to shame.

Arthur shook his hand. "I would like to buy this ship," he said.

John's eyebrows rose to his hairline. "_This_ ship?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes. It's one of Tom's isn't it?" All the ships were technically Tom's, but this one actually had the engineer's fingerprints on it.

John wrung his hands, hesitant. "Maybe we should go inside."

The insides of new ships appeared sterile with their white hallways lit by florescent lights. These walls were lined with cool blue steel and softer lighting that glowed, not glared. John led him through the cargo bay and down a passageway to the end of the ship. As they got closer, and the sound of banging and clanking grew louder. The door to the engine room was open, and over the sound John had to yell.

"Gwen! Hey, Gwen!"

The sound stopped and a woman popped out from behind the engine. It wasn't just any woman; it was Tom's daughter, Guinevere. Arthur hadn't seen her since he last visited Cameliard four years ago. At twenty, she still seemed like just a girl to him, but seeing her now in her coveralls pulled down to her hips, and her grease stained tank top sticking to her sweaty skin, she was definitely a woman. And her eyes, her bright brown eyes revealed when she perched her goggles on top of her head, glared at him.

"You remember Captain Pendragon, and this is Pilot Merlin Emrys," John said. "The captain would like to purchase the ship."

"No," Gwen said coldly.

Arthur would've felt warmer if a bucket of ice was thrown on him. "Guinevere—"

"Don't you_ 'Guinevere' _me," she pointed at him with an angry finger. "It's been four years. Not a visit, a call, a letter, _nothing! _And now you come here wanting to buy my father's ship?" She wiped her hands aggressively on a rag and marched up to them. Arthur held his ground, but Merlin stepped back.

They played together as children. He'd pull her curly pigtails, and she'd push him down. As teenagers, they'd lie on top of one of the ships and admire Camelot and Ealdor in the sky. "_I'm going to become the greatest captain in the 'verse,'_" Arthur would say, and Gwen would lean on his shoulder, and her curls would tickle his neck.

"Your father said he would build me a ship," Arthur said.

"If you haven't noticed, he's not around to build you one!" she snapped.

Merlin cleared his throat. "I think we'll just leave you two to discuss things." He and John left the room, closing the door behind them for extra privacy.

"I need this ship," Arthur said desperately. "I need to find Morgana."

Gwen threw down the rag. "You can have any ship, and you want this one?" She turned her back to him and crossed her arms, staring intensely at the engine. "This is the last ship my father built from scratch…It's all I have left of him."

"I understand that, Guinevere."

"And just because you're the President's son, doesn't mean you're entitled to any ship in the 'verse!" she said in annoyance.

Arthur walked over to the engine and placed his hand on it. _The ship's heart_. He remembered the conversation with Tom and one of the most important parts of owning a ship. "He didn't happen to name it, did he? Is it Excalibur?"

She looked at him sharply. "How did you know that?"

"It's what I told your father I'd name the ship he would build me."

Gwen lowered her arms to her side in defeat. "He started building it right around the time you left for the Academy. He poured everything he had into this ship. _'It'll be the greatest ship I've ever built'_ he would say. _'It's for the greatest captain in the 'verse.'_" Her lips curved into a smile at the memory of her father. "Tell me, Arthur. Are you the greatest captain in the 'verse?"

"I…can't answer that," he said. He's received countless of complements and graduated first in his class, but his opinion of himself wasn't very high, not when there's always room for improvement (and a president for a father to impress).

She regarded him for a moment. "You may not have shown your face around here for years, but I've read the stories about you. You've done great things, _Captain_."

"That doesn't make me great," he whispered.

"You used to be so…_arrogant_. What happened?" He heard the humor in her voice.

_Grow up, Arthur Pendragon!_ She was the only person to ever dare yell at the President's son. He grinned. "I grew up." With the tension gone between them, he moved closer to her. "I'm assembling a crew, and I would be honored if you would be part of it."

Gwen looked around the room. It was only one of many, but the engine room is where she spent all her time. The ship was complete and just sitting in the yard where it would remain as long as she lived, protecting her father's final creation from being turned into scrap metal. Gwen imagined Excalibur cutting through space like the sharpest of swords and made her decision. Ships don't belong on rocks.

Her gaze settled back on him and she smiled. "When do we leave?"

* * *

**A/N:** Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. There's a 50% chance this will become a multi-chapter fic.

**Thanks always** for reading and reviewing! *runs off to watch Firefly for the 923952912245th time*


	8. The Taste of Freedom

**Summary:** Detective Chief Inspector Arthur Pendragon and the one that got away.

**Author's Note:** So I was watching the series finale of Luther and got a hit on inspiration.

**The Taste of Freedom**

DCI Arthur Pendragon entered his flat and froze in the doorway. Something was off; he could feel it—smell it—in the air. Something…_sweet_. He shut the door quietly, drew his gun, and ventured in.

_Clink._

It came from the kitchen.

He peeked around the corner and sighed, putting the gun away before entering. "Guinevere."

Guinevere Leodegrance was in his flat, in his kitchen, at his table, drinking his tea out of his mug. "Arthur," she said pleasantly. "Welcome home. How was your day?"

He kept his distance. "You do realize this is breaking and entering."

"I only entered. Nothing was broken, I assure you." Her smile was bright and innocent. "You look like you've had a long day. Please, have a seat. Stay a while." The twinkle in her eye unnerved him. "Tea?"

Guinevere Leodegrance was in his flat, in his kitchen, offering him his own tea.

_Shit_.

* * *

Arthur entered the interrogation room and sat across from the curly haired beauty. "Sorry for the wait, Mrs. Maynard. I'm DCI Arthur Pendragon. I hope you aren't too uncomfortable. These rooms are never pleasurable, I'm sure you understand why."

"I guess I'm not Mrs. Maynard any longer, huh?" She said quietly.

"Guinevere—"

"Please, call me Gwen."

"If you would prefer…"

"Though…you do say it quite nicely." She smiled sadly. "I don't think anyone has ever said my name with such…_care_."

Arthur wasn't sure how to react to that. All he did was say her name in the tone he used when he addressed a suspect. At least he thought he did. "You are a suspect in your husband's death, Guinevere. I have to ask you a few questions."

She looked tired. Her shoulders were slumped and her eyes were dry. _Too dry_.

"According to your statement, you received a call from one of your husband's associates…"

_She was spending time in the country, away from the dirty secrets of the city's underground, away from __**him**__. Her phone rang, and she answered._

"_Where's my package?" The gravelly voice asked._

"_Sorry?"_

"_Helios ain't answerin'. I swear—if he's—"_

"_I don't know, Cendred. I'm out of town. I'll get back to you as soon as I can." She didn't wait for him to speak again and hung up._

_By the time she got home, it was late in the evening. "Babe? You here?" When she entered the kitchen, Helios was lying on the floor among the shattered remains of his cup, tea everywhere. Vomit surrounded his head and scratch marks were etched in his throat._

_She dialed 999._

"Did your husband have enemies, Guinevere?"

She shrugged. "Of course he did."

"Did he ever hurt you?"

Her eyes hardened. "Not as often as you'd think a man like him would. He used to call me his prized possession."

"No woman should be called a possession," Arthur said.

"No girl should, either." Her voice was cold.

"When did you find out your husband was a sex trafficker?"

"Stop calling him that."

"What? Your husband?" He saw her lip twitch. She was biting back a sneer. "You don't sound like you have much love for him."

"Would you if you found out your significant other sold teenage girls into sexual slavery?" She leaned forward, folding her hands on the table. "What if your girlfriend," she scrutinized him quickly, "Or boyfriend, destroyed these poor girls?" She slid back. "I found out after the first year. He got me…involved." She was beginning to show emotion, he noted as her eyes watered and her voice shook. "I tried to leave. He wouldn't let me." The tears began to fall. "An angry wife. That's my motive, right?" She wiped away the tears.

"His tea was laced with belladonna, also known as _deadly_ nightshade." Arthur flipped through the report and showed her the picture of the scene. She didn't flinch. "They say poison is a woman's weapon."

Her eyes narrowed in a glare. "While I was out of the city, my husband had cuppa that I poisoned."

"Is that a confession?"

"I'm just laying out what I'm being accused of."

"You're a smart woman, Guinevere."

She did it, he knew, but she was let go on the grounds that she couldn't be placed at the scene, and the poison was only found in that bit of tea and nowhere else. On top of that, any time a man like Helios was off the streets, it's considered a victory. But Arthur's job was to catch murderers, and he was forced to let one go.

A week later, Arthur tracked Gwen down to a dance studio. He watched her from the doorway moving gracefully to the music. She was short, but the way she extended her limbs made her legs seem miles long and her arms closer to the heavens when she reached. The way she arched and released, the way she turned and leaped; she danced with abandon.

She danced with freedom.

The song ended and she lifted her head, looking at him in the mirrored wall. "He used to watch me dance, so I stopped."

"If all women danced like that when they got away with murder, that would make a spectacular show."

She snorted. "You still think I killed him."

"Not with your bare hands. You just mixed belladonna into the tea leaves and let the rest fall into play." He saw her roll her eyes in the reflection. "_Leodegrance. _You changed your name back. So soon?"

She gathered her things and walked passed him. "I just want to get my life back."

* * *

He watched with suspicion as she poured him the tea. "Relax, Arthur. It's not my special blend." To prove her point, she took a sip. Her lipstick left a print of her lower lip on the edge of the mug.

Never in his life has he heard a woman say his name like she did. "What do you want?"

Gwen held the mug out to him. "I don't have any friends." Well, that was honest.

He accepted the tea, but didn't drink it. "You committed an offense because you want to be my friend?"

"No, I don't want to be your friend. And like I said, I didn't break anything," she smirked. "This is for you." She took a folded paper out of her pocket and slid it to the center of the table.

He took it while keeping his eyes on her. They held each other's gaze while he unfolded it. Finally, his eyes flashed down. It was a list of names.

_Cenred Essetir, Kanen Siddig, Julius Borden._ The list went on. "What's this?"

"A list," she said smartly.

He bit the inside of his cheek to stop from making a snide comeback. _"For what?" _he gritted out instead.

"They're all of Helios' associates. I know human trafficking isn't your division, but if you could pass it on to someone, you'll be saving a lot of lives." She made her way to the sink and cleaned the mug she used…and the rest of his dishes.

He was at a loss for words. "Uh…you don't have to do that."

"Do what?" She looked at him over her shoulder. "Clean up after a man? I guess I don't have to anymore."

He looked back down at the list. "You could've just come to the station instead of—"

"Breaking and entering," she finished his sentence. She dried her hands and turned around, leaning back on the counter. Her hands gripped the edge. "You haven't touched your tea."

He stared down at the cooling liquid, and then back at her. He picked it up and watched her watch him as he brought it to his lips.

"It's late. I guess I should be going," Gwen said, but she didn't move.

He swallowed the apparently not poisoned tea. "Well, off you go."

"They'll be coming for me."

He thought he heard worry in her voice. "Who?"

"Helios' friends." She looked at him sweetly. "Drive me home?"

He had a murderer in his car. He had the world's sweetest murderer in his car.

It was raining, and Gwen traced the trail of raindrops on the window with her finger. "I let the latest group of girls go," she said. "That's why I was in the country. I brought them to a women's shelter."

"Good." He concentrated on the road, but he felt her turn and look at him.

"It's upsets you that I got away with it," she stated. He didn't like that she could read him so easily. "I may have orchestrated his death without getting blood on my hands, but murder is murder, and it's your job to put murderers away. But I'm the one that got away."

He let out a bitter laugh. "Do you want to say that again, but at the station?"

They turned down her street. It was an expensive neighborhood, and her house was near the end. The houses were nearly identical. The only thing that separated hers from the others was the three men lurking outside of it.

Gwen press back low into the seat. She brought her arm up, resting her elbow on the window ledge to hide her face with her forearm, and she shut her eyes, waiting for what may come. When they got closer, the men barely reacted to the light beams. They just acted like they were three men having a chat in the rain. Arthur stared them down, and they stared back, concentrating purely on him.

Gwen opened her eyes when she felt the car turn the corner. She sat up and looked relieved. "Thank—"

Arthur was tired and frustrated. "Don't thank me," he said and drove her to a hotel.

* * *

It was approximately two weeks and five days when Arthur saw Gwen again, this time by accident. He was on a case. Prostitutes were turning up dead; he was dealing with a modern Jack the Ripper. The call came in from a rundown estate in a known problematic area. It could've been a domestic violence call, but back up was on standby. He took the elevator to the floor and when it opened, he heard screaming. It got louder as he got closer. He found the room it was coming from and busted in. There was shuffling, crashes, muffled grunts and curses coming from the bedroom. He saw a woman in her underwear tied to the bed, and Gwen slowly sitting up from the floor with blood dripping from her hairline before he was tackled to the floor. He dropped his gun, and the killer tried to pummel his face. The man was the size of a house, and all Arthur could do was block his strikes. The blows stopped and he saw the killer hold up a knife.

_Bang!_

The killer's eyes bulged and his body jiggled with the shock.

_Bang! _

The killer coughed and he dropped the knife.

_Bang!_

The bullet ripped through his throat and blood splattered on Arthur's face. Arthur pushed him over and sat up. The killer was laying face down like a big fat blob. The bullet holes lined straight up his spine. Three perfect shots.

Gwen lowered the gun and rushed to the girl, untying her. The prostitute launched herself in Gwen's arms, sobbing. Arthur took off his jacket and gave it to Gwen to place on around the girl. Sirens were heard in the distance.

"_Dare I ask why you were there?" He asked her._

"_The girl, her name is Sefa. She's one of the girls who…I keep trying to get her out of it but she refuses. I check up on her every now and then. He was a client, I guess. When I got there, he answered the door and dragged me in…He tied me up. Poorly, I might add."_

"_Where'd you learn to shoot like that?"_

_The corner of her red lips turned up. "Care for a lesson?"_

He lied in his report. He said the killer was on top of Gwen and he shot him. Thankfully he wiped the blood from his face before the cops entered the flat. The lie was effortless. Protecting Gwen came second nature to him.

"I never thanked you," he said.

"You never thanked me for…?" _Killing a killer. Saving your life. _She raised an eyebrow in faux confusion. She was quick and he liked it.

He liked her.

* * *

The third time they met that month was because Arthur invited Gwen out for coffee. _"Not tea?" she joked over the phone. _Her laugh was lovely over the phone, but he would kill to hear her do it in person.

They sat a table next to the window. They people watched, speculating which ones that passed were capable of committing murder. It was morbid, but they were having…fun.

"Is this even appropriate, seeing a former murder suspect?" She asked.

"Not really," he said. "And I'm not _seeing_ you. This isn't a date."

"No? But you paid for my coffee." She waved the paper cup at him.

The lipstick print on the lid reminded him of the one she left on his mug. "Chivalry is not entirely dead." Under the table, he felt her give him a light, playful kick. "Assaulting an officer of the law now?"

And there it was, that melodious laughter. She held the coffee up to her lips, and he wished he was the lid.

She smiled. "Free does taste better."

* * *

**A/N:** Deleted scene: Helios likes to have his tea at a specific time. When Gwen's not home to make it for him, she leaves the tea in the teapot, and all Helios has to do is add water. This time she added something extra.

I came up with Helios' and Kanen's last names from their actors, and in case you forgot, Julius Borden (aka Gaius Baltar) was the thief in Aithusa.

And speaking of Gaius Baltar…SPACE! I'm easily swayed and **Excalibur **will become a multi-chapter fic and make an appearance when either **Undying Love **or **The Lord and the Governess **are near the end. Too many WIPs make me nauseous XD

**Thanks always **for reading and reviewing! :D


	9. Pockets

**Summary:** She bought his trust but stole his heart.

**Author's Note:** So I had this idea of Aladdin with street urchin Gwen and Prince Arthur, but it suddenly turned into thief/chimney sweep/maid Gwen and rich Arthur.

Off topic, after the last Luther inspired one-shot, I've been obsessing over Arwen with Luther-Alice dynamic and I miiiiiiiiiiight turn that into a multi-chapter too (? I just really love Luther and the idea's been really sticking with me) or just do more with more bad girlish Gwen. Idk

**Pockets**

Arthur wished he called for his driver instead of waiting for a taxi in the mid December chill. He was so focused on keeping warm that he didn't hear the thundering footsteps coming toward him.

"Bloody hell!" Arthur cursed as he was pushed, and caught himself on the wall. Two officers ran down the sidewalk waving their batons yelling at the boy they were chasing. Everyone stopped what they were doing to watch the commotion until they disappeared around the corner.

Just then, a taxi pulled up and two elderly women wrapped in furs helped themselves to it. Arthur bit back a grumble and leaned back against the wall.

"They're not gonna catch 'im." Arthur jumped at the sudden sound of a vivid feminine voice that came from next to him. He immediately looked to his right and saw no one. Then he looked down.

First he saw a cloud of dark chocolate curls, and then the head tilted up to look at him. Bright brown eyes and freckles stood out under the winter sun against her cinnamon skin. Her full lips were in a grin.

"What makes you say that?" Arthur asked her.

"Did you see the size of those coppers?" She puffed out her cheeks and held her arms out in semi circles at her sides to mime the portly size. "They're gonna give up."

He got a good look at her. Despite the cold, she wasn't wearing a coat. Her blouse was probably once white, and had noticeable stains. It was tucked into a faded black skirt that fell to her ankles, revealing worn boots. She probably worked in a pub or in the kitchens, he assumed. Whatever she did, it wasn't clean, judging by the smudges on her face that he failed to notice before because of her eyes.

"Yes, they probably will," he agreed.

She gave him a smile before turning around and walking away with both hands in the pockets of her skirt. She didn't really walk like a lady, he noticed.

Arthur gave a relieved sigh when the taxi pulled up to his home. He just wanted to sit down in the drawing room, have a drink, and get warm in front of the fireplace.

The driver told him the fare, and Arthur reached for his wallet in his coat pocket. His first instinct when he felt his empty pocket was to check the other pocket. Then the inside pocket. Then his pants pockets. He even checked his breast pocket where it wouldn't even fit.

"Could you…hold on for one moment," Arthur said and bolted into the house.

He had to sit through dinner with sister making fun of him for having to borrow money from her. It could've been worse, though. If his father was home, he would've been scolded for losing his wallet, and have to sit through a lecture on the value of money. And if it was his stepmother, she would've snickered and act as though he's the world's biggest burden.

At least he ended up in front of the fireplace, nice and warm.

The next morning, it was much colder. They couldn't light the fires because the chimney sweeps were at work. Arthur was arguing with his sister, as usual, in the drawing room since it was the warmest room in the house without needing a fire burning.

For once, Arthur had the upper hand on Morgana when they were interrupted by a scraping sound coming from the chimney. They stayed silent, waiting for it to happen again. Suddenly ash and soot came sprinkling down.

Then a torrent.

Then a crash.

A black cloud filled the fireplace before settling.

"Good heavens!" Morgana exclaimed.

They heard the coughing first. Then they saw the black figure start to move. The legs tried to get a grip on the hardwood, swishing the soot around like a dirty snow angel.

The crash had alerted nearly the entire staff and Catrina. Thankfully their father was out.

"Urgh! You stupid, clumsy, boy!" Catrina shrieked. "Look what you've done!"

The head maid ushered her away. "This will be taken care of, my lady."

Morgana rushed forward to help the boy out of the fireplace, not bothered that she was getting soot on her dress. Arthur was amazed by his sister getting dirty for once, but it was short lived when the chimney sweep opened his eyes.

Her eyes.

The girl from the street.

Arthur just stared at her while Morgana ordered the maids bring the girl to the servant's quarters to clean her up and called for the family physician.

Arthur felt like he was in a daze as everyone moved around him. He followed the girl with his eyes as she was led out the room, boot prints out of soot trailing behind her.

The same boots she was wearing on the street.

The same boots that would make a hard sound when running.

_Chased._

He had been standing right next to the alley. She must have run around the block and whipped on a skirt she had hidden in the alley.

She stole his wallet.

Arthur danced around the servants working to clean the mess and grabbed Morgana. "She's a thief!"

She shrugged his hand off her. "What do you mean she's a thief?"

"She stole my wallet!"

Morgana gave an exasperated sigh. "Really, Arthur."

"Really!"

"Oh, please."

Not wanting to continue arguing, Arthur ran upstairs searching for the girl. He asked one of the servants and all he heard was "she's in" and "bath" and ran for the bathroom. He burst through the door, not thinking, and heard the scream before he saw her. He closed the door immediately and shouted apologizes through the door.

It opened and she stood in front of him in a borrowed robe, clean and glaring.

"I'm only apologizing because what I just did was completely inappropriate," Arthur said hastily.

"You're damn right!" she shouted hotly.

"But you stole my wallet," he claimed.

Before she could answer, Morgana stormed up to him. "Are you out of your mind!" she scolded. She pushed him out of the way and apologized for his stupidity as she entered the bathroom and closed the door behind them.

Arthur didn't miss the glint in the girl's eyes before the door closed.

She was in borrowed clothes as Gaius checked her over. It was a contrast to what she was in before. She had been wearing two worn men's shirts, a tattered jacket, patched trousers, two pairs of socks, a newsboy cap, and fingerless gloves.

The roof was checked when none of the other boys came down to see if she was okay.

"They ran off," she said. "We're not exactly…legit."

"What do you mean 'not exactly legit'?" Morgana asked. "I'm sorry; we never got your name…"

"It's Guinevere, m'lady" she said. "Gwen for short., or "You, boy," by anyone who doesn't get a good look at me." She chuckled to herself. "And what I mean to say is that the reason why your chimney service is so cheap is because, well, we ain't a real service…" she let the last bit trail off and shrugged sheepishly.

There was quiet in the room until Arthur muttered. "I told you she was a thief."

"Just doin' what I can to stay warm at night, just like you," Gwen retorted. _"M'lord,"_ she added.

Gaius prescribed three days of bed rest and Morgana offered her a room in the servant's quarters where she could remain out of sight from their father and Catrina.

It worked until during breakfast on the third day when from behind his paper, Uther said, "Who is Gwen?"

Arthur choked on his tea and Morgana dropped her fork. He probably heard her name from one of the servants, and it didn't help that Morgana was always running up there to dote on her.

"She's the new maid!" Morgana blurted out and Arthur inwardly cursed.

"Oh?" Uther sounded half-interested.

"She arrived two days ago, but she fell ill, the poor thing," Morgana half-lied.

"Oh, we might want to think about getting new chimney sweeps," Arthur said glaring at Morgana. "Made a complete mess of the drawing room the other day. Not to mention, the scam services." Morgana glared back at him.

On the fourth day, Arthur found Gwen in Morgana's room dressed in a maid's uniform. She cleaned up nice, he had to admit.

"She looks great, doesn't she?" Morgana beamed.

Arthur was fuming. "We can't have a thief living under this roof!"

"The streets are no place for a girl, especially not in the winter," Morgana countered, but didn't deny that Gwen was a thief.

Arthur crossed his arms. "And since when did you become so charitable?"

She gave an undignified snort and pulled Gwen along. "You still owe me for the taxi."

Before he could say anything, something dark and square flew in front of his face. He caught it before it hit him. It was a wallet. _His_ wallet. He recognized it by the monogrammed gold initials _A.P. _in the corner. He turned around to see Gwen wink at him over her shoulder before turning back around and following Morgana down the hall.

He opened the wallet, and it was empty save for a note.

_I.O.U._, it said.

* * *

Arthur caught Gwen alone when she was carrying a basket holding Morgana's sheets and laundry up to his sister's room.

"We need to talk," Arthur said, skipping stairs to catch up with Gwen.

She started coughing and covered her mouth quickly, causing the basket to fall. Arthur caught it before the contents decorated the staircase.

"I'm so—" _Cough. Cough. _"I'm so sorry." _Cough._

"Easy there," Arthur said, resting the basket on the step and patting her back.

She calmed. "I guess it hasn't gone away yet. Thank you."

Gwen reached for the basket but Arthur picked it back up. "I'll carry it."

He also made Morgana's bed and hung her dresses the way Gwen directed. The second time he tried to speak to her alone, he caught her in the process of hanging laundry. She had another coughing attack so he hung it and took it down for her.

He ran into her for the third time at the end of the week.

"Okay, now we really need to talk," he said quickly as she passed him.

She didn't turn around, but said, "You should check your pockets before Merlin takes your clothes to wash."

Arthur stuck his hand in his pocket and pulled out a pound that wasn't there before and a note. "What's this?"

Gwen turned gracefully on her heel with her hands in her apron pockets. He noticed she had new shoes. "Read it."

He unfolded it and read it out loud. "Hard work pays off—Were you faking this entire time so I'd do your chores?"

Gwen gave a small, dainty, cough into her hand. "Why, whatever do you mean, m'lord?"

"This isn't nearly enough," Arthur said flatly.

"Guess I'm gonna be here a while, then." Gwen smirked and turned back around on her heel and sauntered down the hall in the same gait she had when he saw her on the streets.

Whenever they passed each other, Arthur would find a coin or more in his pocket. He was amazed by her swiftness, especially at her skill to silently slip several coins into his pocket without making a noise.

Sometimes he would find her on the roof during her break. The first time he found her there, what he had to say to her was completely forgotten. He'd never been up there before and saw a new view of London. The posh side of him should've felt disgusted by the grey plumes billowing out of the chimneys, but he found it comforting. Many people were nice and warm in their homes.

He sighed and remembered that many weren't as fortunated. He turned to look at Gwen to see her looking over the ledge, arms wrapped tightly around herself to trap in the warmth her old coat was letting out.

"I never asked you what you did with the money." She ignored him and he joined her at the ledge to see what held her attention. "What are you—"

Gwen shushed him and pointed down. He followed her finger and saw a suspicious looking boy hop over their gate. "What the—" Gwen clamped her gloved hand over his mouth; her exposed fingers were warm against his cheek. The sound of the police yelling came from down the street and the boy ducked out of sight. The cops ran by and disappeared down the road. When it quieted, the boy peeked out of his hiding place, hopped back over the gate, and strolled off in the opposite direction with a skip in his step.

"Fed a few kids and a dog," Gwen said cheerfully.

Arthur didn't know what to say, but he was glad she used it for good. That night he discovered his wallet missing, he had imagined some degenerate splurging in an opium den. Kids and a dog enjoying a warm meal was a much better image.

The relationship they had was odd. Even when they were feet away from each other, he checked his pockets for new change anyways. Or he'd test her by keeping his hands in his pockets when she passed, just to find money in his back pocket instead. Arthur blushed at the thought of Gwen slipping her hand back there. Morgana said Gwen was a great maid, but Arthur thought she was a better pickpocket. At least she kept her promises. He admired that.

One day he caught her wrist, but she wasn't going for his pocket, she was going for his sleeve. Merlin had sewn back on a button, but a quite a bit of thread was still hanging from it. They laughed about it and Arthur said he'd cut it off when he got to his room.

"You have to let me go first," Gwen said, eyeing his hand on her wrist. But before he could reluctantly do so, she covered his hand with hers, and pried his hand off her one finger at a time with gentle ease. Then she slipped away with a coy smile. Arthur felt a weight in the front of his shirt and pulled three pounds out of his pocket.

It's been three months when Morgana told him Gwen was leaving soon. "She told me she was going to stay until she paid off her debt to you."

In that moment, Arthur wished he had more in his wallet when she lifted it off him. He put his hands in his empty pockets.

"You've grown fond of her."

"Yes—What? No!" He said quickly, but it was too late to lie to Morgana and to himself.

"I'll miss her, too," Morgana said forlornly.

Gwen would be leaving with more than she came with. She stood at the door in a new clean shirt and new pair of trousers, her old coat, work boots, and fingerless gloves. She fixed the cap on her head, pulled her bag onto her shoulder, and went out the servant's entrance and into the cold. Before she made it up the side stairs and onto the street, Arthur pulled her back.

"You can't go," he said, his breath visible in the cold air and his cheeks flushed. He was slightly out of breath from running through the house trying to find her.

"No?"

"Your debt hasn't been paid."

Gwen's brow furrowed in confusion. "It hasn't?"

"No," Arthur said. "Because there's something else you stole."

"And what might that be?" Gwen asked looking down at the hand that was still on her arm. It moved down to grasp her hand, and he brought it to his lips. They were warm against her fingers.

He let her go and told her to check her pocket. She pulled out a piece of paper and laughed.

_My heart_, it said.

Gwen made a _hmm_ and bit her lip. "But what if I don't wanna give it back?"

Arthur pulled her against him. He felt warmer holding her outside than he's ever felt indoors in front of the fireplace. "Then I can't let you go."

Her eyes glittered under the winter sun as she smiled up at him. "Good."

* * *

**A/N:** If I changed things around, this sorta could've been a prequel to The Lord and the Governess lol. The Lord and the Thief? The Lord and the Chimney Sweep? Ooooh The Lady and the Chimney Sweep? Imagine Arthur covered in soot, blue eyes standing out against his dirtied face. And then cleaning up all nice and shiny and wearing the white shirt of sex…

Ahem. Yeah. See you next time!

**Thanks always** for reading and reviewing! :D


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